


re:re

by ekoshio



Category: Gakuen Mokushiroku | Highschool of the Dead
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Isekai, Suicide
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:34:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28637835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ekoshio/pseuds/ekoshio
Summary: A woman, who craved freedom, is thrown into the world of Highschool of the Dead instead. She has no chance of escape, but she does know the course of the story until the manga's final chapter. With this realization, she decides that she'll make the best possible ending, using her understanding to change the course of the unfinished story, and the world, as she knows it.
Kudos: 2





	re:re

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posting on fanfiction. pick your poison, fellas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first time ever posting here so still trying to figure out how this works, but been reading stories for years. anywho, this is an isekai, a self-indulgent one at that as well as a vent fic. i think we can all agree with the worldwide sickness that there is a lot of stress, and this is how i'll get it out, wheeze. plus, re:re at its core is just my salt at how the series is left unfinished. i understand why, but the Dead Sea is the second most saltiest place to have ever existed.
> 
> anyway. come next chapter, where most, if not all the canon characters (minus minor characters; i'll likely be using all named characters though) will be introduced, i'll have a poll up on my fanfiction profile for anyone who wants to have a say on who the MC, Lexa, gets shipped with... eh. maybe. the poll won't be exactly concrete, that much is certain, but i do wanna see you guys' opinions.

There it was. The key. Forgotten by a man that caused her so much pain these past few days—or was it months? She furrowed her brow, trying to ignore the way her bruised-up thighs ached as she shimmed her way off of the dirty mattress. Really, had it _truly_ been months since Kai held her captive? It could've been, she supposed. Being down in this dark, cruddy basement, chained like a dog, she had lost her sense of time as far as dates went, but really, it didn't matter so long as she kept track of night and day.

As footsteps echoed from above, floorboards creaking, she stilled. Judging by how Kai loved his little routines—and loved telling her about every single one of them—those footsteps were heading for the front door because he was going to the nearby 24-hour gym. It'd take him about fifteen minutes to walk there, and he'd stay for two hours before going home to shower and cook dinner. 5pm to 7 o'clock, and no later because he had _his woman_ waiting for him, as he so finely described.

A window of opportunity provided, consequently. Plenty of time, too, even if she ran into obstacles. She waited until she was certain she heard the footsteps grow closer to the front door, then resumed her movement once there was a sound that signaled a door being opened and closed, footsteps no longer heard. The floorboards in Kai's house were poorly insulated, she had long ago realized. Practically anything in the house could be heard from the basement but the same could be said when it came to the first floor, the basement _especially_ included. She had to be quiet when moving around, else Kai would take notice—and with how mentally disturbed Kai was, a monstrous creature hidden in tall, dark, and handsome with a sunny disposition, that certainly wasn't something she needed _or_ wanted.

Getting off the mattress took more time than she would've liked as it only signified that her body was exhausted, though being covered in bruises and cuts that were messily treated should've made her see the fatigue coming. Everything hurt, her limbs aching, but she stood anyway, picking herself up off the cold floor with the use of the wall. With a shaky breath, she directed her tired gaze at the shackles that bound her wrists, keeping her chained to one of the pipes. Her wrists were raw and bruised from how she'd tirelessly tried to pull them free when Kai first put her in the basement.

Now for the hard part, she thought. She gathered up the chain in her hands, moving closer to the lead pipes in question. Some were old, others new, but where the chain was hooked, part of it was rusted—and bent, thanks to all that tugging she did when Kai wasn't around. Today was the day, she thought as she got ready, firmly gripping the chain. She tugged with a harsh lurch, pulling with all of the strength she could muster, and the pipe groaned, echoing. And bending.

_C'mon, c'mon. Snap already, you rusted son of a—_

She fell backward, unceremoniously landing on her rear, but the pain was hardly felt. Her lips curled into a wide grin as she looked up at the pipe she'd been trying to break, seeing the rusted part snapped off with water spraying into the room like a geyser. Most importantly though, with the pipes no longer connected, the chain could be easily slipped off. She practically threw herself to the pipes with a spike of renewed energy, guiding the shackles—annnnnnnd, boom, she was free.

Well. _Almost_ free; the shackles were still on her wrists, bound too tight to not cause pain at the slightest movement, but at least she could move around without being limited to the length of the chain. Almost a bounce in her step, she headed over to the desk where the key laid there, waiting to be grabbed. She swiped it and wasted no time in unlocking the cuffs, throwing them aside the moment her wrists were no longer constrained.

It was not over yet, however. She still had to escape the house, she reminded herself. Rubbing her wrists in an attempt to soothe the abused flesh, she headed to the steep-looking staircase that led to… Kai's bedroom, she was pretty sure. She only saw it once, when he had dragged her down to the basement, but it made sense for Kai to sleep in the room with the trapdoor that led to the basement. Having a captive and all.

 _Soon, he'll have no one to fawn over,_ she thought, her features morphing into a dark look. _Disgusting bastard._ Climbing the stairs was admittedly difficult. The stairs were far more steeper than she initially thought, and her legs arched as she ascended them but she was so close to escaping that it didn't matter; she could worry later about the state of her body.

She raised a hand to the trapdoor, pushing it up only slightly. Wariness was something that was hardwired into her at this point, so she peeked through the opening, trying to see if she was correct. All she met was a barren, bare room, save for folded bedding in the corner that reminded her of the futons she had to sleep on back in Japan.

" _Oh, I'm from Japan, too! I'm actually here on scholarship!"_

She let out a grunt, puffing out her cheeks. God, she didn't want to remember anything about Kai. Pushing the trapdoor open further, she climbed out and stood, leaning against the wall for support as she made her way to the only exit she could see, a big black door with several indents in the wood that indicated a fist hitting it. Kai always did have anger issues.

Hand curling around the knob of the door, she opened the door slowly, breath held as she took a peek through the opening much like before, wary. Met with nothing more than a steep staircase that led up to the second floor, she released her breath, slipping out into the hallway. To her left were two closed doors with the very end being the entrance to what looked like a dingy kitchen. To her right was just a single gray door, the outside world.

It was almost surreal, how it felt to see she was so close, so _close_ to freedom, and eagerly, she staggered to the door. _So close, so close!_ Her hand curled around the knob—

Arms wrapped around her from behind. Lean and muscular, they pulled her in close against a firm body that felt all too familiar, and like that, dread overtook her, rooting her in place.

"Lexa," a husky voice murmured, a head nuzzling against the crook of her neck. Kai. "I told you before that you can't lea—"

She didn't have to think. She stomped hard on the top of his foot, and as his grip slacked, a pain-filled grunt escaping his lips, she whirled around, striking him in the jaw with an angled elbow. No longer did she feel arms wrapped around her, Kai certainly caught off-guard by the sudden assault, and she darted, sprinting down the hall into the kitchen—but lumbering footsteps told her that Kai was not too far behind.

She looked around, chest heaving for air, before she grabbed the first thing she saw, fingers curling around the handle of a tea kettle on the lit stovetop. Kai was in the doorway now, his head hung low with his unruly red locks curtaining over his eyes as he leaned against the frame, one hand on his knee.

"Wow!" Kai heaved a breath, looking up just enough for his eyes, wild and frantic, to peek out from disarray bangs. Blood ran down his mouth, and a bloody grin was aimed her way as the tall man straightened his posture, brushing back his hair, eyes closed. "You really pack a punch, babe—"

She swung the kettle without a second thought. It connected, and Kai's head whipped to the side, staggering him, but she didn't stop there, throwing it at him with boiling water flying everywhere. Some landed on her, most landed on Kai, and as he howled with pain, she darted over, going through the drawers until she found what she wanted. A knife, long and sharp and silver.

"...Why are you," she heard Kai say, his tone a lot less cheery, and she turned, watching him slowly get back onto his feet, certain areas of his skin red-hot, already beginning to blister. He certainly wouldn't be considered as handsome. "bein' so difficult?"

She raised the knife, poised to attack. "Stay away."

His eyes glanced at the knife, a well-groomed eyebrow quirking, before his gaze shifted, giving her an unimpressive look. Clearly, his twisted little head believed she wouldn't try to attack him with the knife. He stepped forward, his hand outstretched. "C'mon, Lexa. We can work this out—"

She swiped, the tip of the blade digging in deep into the palm of Kai's hand and slicing through the skin like a hot knife to butter. He let out a grunt, grimacing as he withdrew his hand to his chest, and she scurried to the other side of the kitchen, far away from Kai, whose expression was pained, then blank.

Then. His features twisted, seething with rage and malice. "Why do you keep hurting me, you goddamn bitch?"

Despite the situation, the obvious danger she was in as Kai advanced to her—only for her to dart around the table, far from his reach—she couldn't help but let out a dry laugh, thinking: _There he is. The monster._

The laugh only served to make Kai angrier. His hands gripped the edges of the table so tightly his knuckles went white, and his muscles tensed, picking up the table and tossing it to the side with ease.

She laughed again. Was this it? She was so close to freedom, but there was no way she could take Kai on in a straight-up fight even with the knife. He was taller, broader, and hadn't been locked up for who knows how long.

 _No,_ she thought. _I can still escape._ She raised the knife again, and unlike before, Kai stopped in his tracks as he realized she bent her elbows inward, turning the bladed end on herself. _I can escape._

She ignored how Kai's rage melted—how it was quickly replaced with fear. He tried to talk, to beg her to put the knife down, but she ignored that, too. She was going to escape. She _had_ to. There was no other choice.

As Kai realized there was no point in trying to talk, he made moves to reach for her, to take the knife away. It gave her more than enough incentive to shove the knife into her own throat, but the pain was hardly felt, surprisingly. Warmth flooded over her hand, down her chest, and she felt her legs turn into jelly, Kai's terrified form along with the background tilting to the side. However, her eyes fluttered shut, somehow at peace with darkness quick to take hold of her.

_...Free._

* * *

Lexa Kiddo's eyes opened. The first thing she saw was a painfully bright light, and she was quick to bring up her hand, shielding her eyes in a manner that she always did when it was a sunny day—to avoid any migraines brought on by the sun with how sensitive to the light she was. Cold nipped at her, but a tingly warmth filtered down on her as the sounds of chatter began to fill her ears, indistinct.

"C'mon, Doi-chan!" a voice, a girl's voice she realized, stuck out, urging, and she felt something grip her arm, tugging her along. "We got gym next, and we better hurry if we wanna make it on time!"

_...Doi-chan? Gym? Wait, was that Japanese?_

Lexa Kiddo realized very quickly something was wrong, and she scrunched up her features. She tried to pull her arm free, but the… girl? The girl had such a strong grip on her arm that she couldn't do much beyond following, going towards the blinding light that soon became less blinding as she heard the unmistakable sounds of a door opening before she was pulled into a direction, then promptly released, with the chatter becoming distinctive, evolving into multiple feminine voices, all speaking Japanese.

As her vision adjusted, she was met with a sight she hadn't seen since her high school days. A locker room. Filled with girls that were certainly on their way of becoming young adults, some changing out of clothes that reminded her of sailor suits, the uniform that sailors wore traditionally.

 _...No._ She looked closer, then her eyes widened. Those were _school_ uniforms, she realized. Seifuku, to be exact—modeled after sailor suits.

"Doi-chan!" the same voice said but she ignored it, looking around. Doi wasn't her name, though she assumed these people here believed it to be. Something was very, _very_ wrong, and trying to tell people to stop calling her that was the least of her problems.

She went past several girls, some giving weird looks and murmurs, and then, she passed by a mirror. She froze.

What Lexa Kiddo saw was not the bruised, broken woman she was sure she had been at the hands of Kai, but the soft-featured, doll-like face of her teen years. She knew she'd been considered rather pretty by her Japanese friends when she lived in Japan, but this was something different. What stared back at her was certainly her face yet somehow it felt so alien that it may as well have belonged to a stranger.

Then.

She noticed the differences. Her hair was far longer than a length she'd allow, about to her hips and neater and straighter, too, with the color more of an ashier brown rather than the chestnut she knew it to be. In between eye-skimming bangs were eyes that gleamed as red as rubies instead of the very pale blue that was caused by her ocular albinism.

Still, as alien as it felt with her having unnaturally red eyes and a slightly different shade of brown for hair color, she knew this to be her face. She raised a hand, taking hold of her cheek that was very lightly flushed with color as she squeezed, pinching herself. Yes, this was indeed her face. She had no doubts, though maybe this was a strange dream. A dream where she was back living in Japan, despite having not set foot in the country since she was around twenty. A dream where she was able to stimulate pain. She had those kinds of dreams before, but this seemed different. Realer, even.

Someone grabbed her wrist, but she was quick to snatch it away, an uneasiness surging through her. However, just as she withdrew, intense pain shot through her chest—a pain that instantly brought to mind an X-ray of her shriveled, distorted lung after she had suffered from a collapsed lung when she was younger. Suddenly, she couldn't breathe so well, quickly reduced to gasps and pants as she pressed her hands against her chest, crumpling to the ground where she stood. At the savage loss of breath, the stabs of pain through her chest as her consciousness grew ever fainter, she felt the heat of tears spilling from her eyes in incessant streams, blurring her vision further.

All the while, the chatter turned into gasps and shouts, girls crowding around her—but she felt her head be gently moved, placed into something soft as a girl came into view. She stood out far above the rest with a classic beauty that would give plenty of supermodels a run for their money with long, dark hair and eyes that were a memorizing blue. However, she felt exceedingly familiar, too.

"Get the nurse!" the girl ordered, voice smooth and husky, and plenty of girls went stiff—from what she could see anyway—before the blue-eyed girl's features hardened, giving a firm yell. " _Go_! Hurry! If not the nurse, a teacher will do!"

"Y-Yes, Busujima-san!"

The pitter-patter of footsteps sounded in Lexa Kiddo's ears, symbolizing someone was going to get help, but she was far more concerned with what the girl was called.

The girl, who had set her head into her lap, allowing the use of her thighs as a pillow. The girl, who looked down at her and offered her a gentle smile, rubbing her back reassuringly. The girl, whose name came to the forefront of her mind—the very same name that marked the girl as a popular character from a series revolving around fanservice and a deadly pandemic that turned people into flesh-eating monsters.

"Keep calm, ok? Relax," Busujima Saeko murmured.

_Ah, fuck._


End file.
